The Half Blood, and the Half Hearted
by BelovedShadow
Summary: It wasn't love. It was never about love. Their feelings for each other weren't rooted by love, controlled by love, or welcoming of love. However, their bond is proven to be unbreakable. They just can't let each other go. Snarry! Smut/Slash/PLOT!
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns me, these characters, this setting, and anything else that she fucking wants, cus I love her. **

**WARNING: Herein lies yaoi. (smut, slash, gayness, erotica, XXX, NC-17, delicious, nutritious, sausage fest, pornographic material.) **

**A/N: Sudden unexpected snarry craving? Dunno where mine came from either... **

Harry Potter was _not _in love with Severus Snape. It was something else entirely, but only he and Snape could properly understand it. Harry didn't love Snape. Hell, he didn't even _like _Snape. So one must ask why it was that they had come to see so much of each other. Or why it was that even as Harry was thinking to himself about how extremely cruel and distasteful Severus was- he could feel a stiffening beneath his pajama pants.

"Hey, Harry; are you coming to breakfast or not?"

The chosen one looked up at his best friend and nodded slowly, forcing his thoughts elsewhere.

"Then hurry up! Hermione's gonna jinx us to next week if we're any later than this. You know she likes us to be early and help the house-elves put out plates."

"I'll be down in a minute, Ron. I just need a couple seconds to myself, okay?"

The ginger nodded. "Right. See you, then."

Harry made a sound of approval before leaning back in his bed, again letting his mind wander to forbidden places.

He did _not _love Snape... he was sure of that... so, what was this yearning? This _need _to surround himself with the Potions Master's aura? It was completely inexplicable. With a heavy sigh, the Gryffindor forced himself out of bed and into the shower for a quick and cold reminder that he needed to practice remaining calm and collected when thinking about Snape.

He stepped out of the bathroom and into a fresh set of robes, then made his way to the dining hall, where Ron and Hermione were waiting. There was an empty spot on the bench, just between Dean and Seamus, and Harry sat himself there for the time being, not wanting to be excruciatingly close to his closest friends, for two reasons. One being that he wanted more time to think- the other being that now in their seventh year at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione's lips had taken quite the liking for each other, and they weren't the most private of people about it.

Heaving yet another sigh, Harry reached for a single strip of bacon, and began to nibble aimlessly, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to eat much else whilst also dealing with such a huge amount of stress. Another year at Hogwarts... his _last _year at Hogwarts.

He'd only barely skidded past his O.W.L's, and would surely have done even worse on his N.E.W.T's had he not had so much help from his friends. He still had no idea how to pass his final exams this year- and he was already stressing over it even though it was still the first month. Still, thinking of his lacking academic ability was much more easy on the mind than thinking about Severus Snape.

Unbeknownst to Harry, a certain greasy-haired potions master was across the room having similar thoughts. How had he let himself become so romantically involved with a student? What would Dumbledore say if he knew? How had this all even started? No... Snape remembered how it had started... how could he forget?

**-Flashback-**

**Snape's POV**

_How on earth am I expected to grade all of these idiotic papers if Albus honestly doesn't want me to fail the entire class? Aside from Granger, they're all complete dolts, and I can't continue to pass my own house simply based off of their lineage any longer..._

_I look up at the clock, and frown slightly to myself... stupid Potter. He's late again, but this is to be expected, so with a knowing sigh, I look back to the paper on my desk; only to be interrupted by a disturbing knock on the door. _

_"Enter." I call out lazily, stashing away Draco Malfoy's essay with a flick of the wand, and praying that when I finish reading it, it's at least decent enough to award him a grade of Satisfactory._

_Harry Potter walks unconfidently into my office, and looks at me with stubborn and already annoyed eyes. Silly boy, he clearly thinks I called him here to pick a fight. He's always on his guard- and for good reason. He's a troublemaker, and is wise to look out for me. So like his father... what a dimwitted child he is. _

_"You asked to see me, Professor?" _

_"Yes, to give you this." I hand him the letter without a second glance to his young boyish face. I don't like to look at him for two long. I much prefer to think about his voice, his actions, and his character. When I remind myself of the life he's lived- it's easy to think of him as a young James. When I look into his eyes... I see only the beloved son of Lily, and that isn't a child I like to gaze upon. _

_He reads the letter over then looks back at me. "S'from Sirius!" _

_"Right you are, Potter. It's good to know that you're capable of reading a return address. If you displayed half that knowledge in my class, then perhaps you wouldn't be failing it." _

_"Actually, professor- I've been meaning to talk to you about that..." He speaks so hesitantly, in that way that his mother does- no- _did. _I can't help but look up at him then, and Lily's eyes stare pleadingly back at me. _

_"Spit it out." I whispered. The words were meant to be spoken in a much more hateful manor, but we're looking at each other too directly now, and I can only imagine his mother. Better yet- this shining piece of her... this babe that she cherished above all other creatures... and left here on this earth. The last piece of her left. _

_But he's not Lily, and he's not James. He's half and half, split right down the middle, and my mind is as equally conflicted as his appearance. For the first time, I question my distaste for Harry. Because if he can't be my Lily, he must also be unable to be James- and if I disassociate him from both of them... he's just another Gryffindor standing innocently in my office like a lost pup. _

_"Well, professor, I was wondering if you could show me really quickly how to make a potion." _

_"What sort of potion, Potter? Surely one that will take up excruciating amounts of time and eventually be used for one of your obscene shenanigans..." _

_"Not at all sir! I'd like a potion that I can drink instead of sleeping. Do they exist? See, because when I'm at home with my muggle aunt and uncle, I can have a coffee, but there's nothing quite like that in Hogsmeade, so I was hoping for some sort of energy potion... O.W.L's are coming up, and if I want to pass I'll have to study straight through the night, you see. Is there anything?" _

_I frowned at him, but couldn't help but pity the child. Fifteen was a rough age, and with his mediocre marks in my class I truly wouldn't be surprised if he _did _need to study straight through the night just to pass his O.W.L's. Not to mention, on some level, all teachers want their students to pass- at _least _so the damn kids can get the hell out of our face. _

_"Fine, Potter. There is such a potion, and it'll only take a short while to make," I took out a short bit of parchment and a quill and scribbled down the required ingredients, then passed them to the boy and sent him off._

**Harry's POV**

_Of course every single thing on this fucking list is near impossible to find... typical fucking Snape. I bet that if I actually manage to get all of this junk back to him, it'll have been for nothing all along and he won't help me with the potion. Still, I can't help but pull a small smirk when recalling Sirius' letter. _

Snape,

Don't get excited you greasy git. This letter isn't for you, it's just Remus says it's less likely to get opened if it's sent to a staff member. Now GIVE IT TO HARRY!

-Sirius

Harry,

Just writing to make sure you're doing alright in school. Make sure not to let yourself become too bothered by your surroundings. I want to hear more about those dreams you were telling me about, too. Okay? I'll try and stay in contact with you more- hopefully via a more decent source than Snivellus...

With love,

-Padfoot

**Narrative POV**

_Harry shook his head free of thoughts of the letter, and continued rummaging through Snape's storage room, looking desperately for the last ingredient on the list... it had already taken him over an hour to find the first ones, and this last flask was proving tortuously difficult to acquire. _

_Alas, he had it, and sprinted back down to the dungeon, where Snape was still sitting smugly in his office, looking over essays. Harry - in his hurry- chose to burst in without knocking, and earned an annoyed glare from the professor, before Snape wordlessly rose and walked over to the cauldron. _

_With the same tense silence, he mixed together the things Harry had brought him with practiced skill, and in nearly no time, the room was filled with the scent of an exotic citrus fruit. It was a very lively smell, like adventures and sunshine, and Harry knew that this potion would work wonders on keeping him awake. It called to him, really, and he found his nose inching closer and closer to it, until he was right beside Snape, and leaning curiously over his teacher to peer into the cauldron. _

_It was filled with a sparkly yellow-orange liquid, that glittered and shined and danced before Harry's eyes. _

_"Step away, Potter. It's highly toxic until you add the crushed bezoar." _

_"I'm just smelling it, Professor. It's delightful, huh?" _

_Snape raised a curious eyebrow at the child. Stupid amateurs, always getting affected by potions before they were even finished. That's why you had to have a fairly acute sense of indifference to be a good potions master. Harry was practically swooning at him, with a huge stupid grin on his face- and only from the smell. How annoying. _

_Harry -forever seduced by the toxic scent- reached out for the cauldron, and of course, managed to spill the stuff all over himself and Snape. He smiled gleefully, as if this was some sort of accomplishment, and watched in confusion as the elder man quickly began to disrobe himself. _

_"Harry you idiot, take your clothes off, don't let it touch your skin!" _

_Harry ignored the words, and the deadly liquid soaked farther and farther through his clothes- getting closer to his nose as he got closer to his own demise. _

_Somewhat hesitantly, and with extreme rage and annoyance, Snape violently ripped Harry's robes away from his sensitive skin, then quickly turned and ran to the sink to rinse off his hands. _

_Feeling a little farther from the scent, Harry began to regain himself somewhat, and gasped in shock- realizing that Snape had just saved his life. He ran over to the sink to help the professor get the potion off of his hands. _

_"Sorry! I'm so sorry! What can I do? This is my fault!" Before he knew what was happening, Harry felt tears streaming down his face in waves. _

_"You idiot, shut up and get me some proper soap! Don't tell me you can't find it!" _

_"I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, professor... I didn't do it on purpose... please don't have me expelled from Hogwarts! I... I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry!"_

_"SOAP!" _

_"I can come in after each class and write lines in my own blood! I've done it before... if that's what you want, I'll do it, just PLEASE don't have me expelled! I swear it was an accident! I'm sor-" _

_Harry was cut off by surprisingly soft lips on his. He blinked up in shock at Snape, and Severus looked down at him with calm eyes. _

_"Harry, I need soap." _

_The teen nodded, and rushed off to get some. Meanwhile, Severus shook his head, as he continued running his hands under the warm water from the sink, diluting the potion enough for it to not be deadly until he could ultimately wash it off. Harry was just like his mother. Easily compassionate for the pain of others- but completely oblivious as to how to solve it... and also able to be calmed by a simple kiss. _

_Severus would never forget the one and only time he'd stolen a kiss from Lily Evans, and he'd never forget his first kiss from Harry, either... although, it wouldn't be his last. _

**-End Flashback-**

Harry smiled softly to himself, as he too recalled the day it had all began with his professor. That kiss was so calming and comforting then, even as Snape's kisses were _now. _

Although, now, a kiss was barely thought of- they'd already gone far beyond that. Harry was no longer an innocent virgin little fifth-year. It had been two years, countless nights, and so many words spoken...

Still, of one thing, Harry was positive:

He was _not _in love with Severus Snape!

**A/N: Sorry that most of this chapter is a flashback, actually, for the first few chapters, flashbacks will be the most prominent text. Anywho, I hope you're liking this fic so far! I also REALLY hope you REVIEW! **

**I love you for reading!**

**-Beloved**


	2. Potions

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter took so long. I was sort of bothered by the lack of reviews, but I've realized that for some reason Snarry is rather underappreciated anyway, so I shouldn't be expecting more of them… I hope this story gets some love soon, though xD **

**Enjoy!**

Harry glared menacingly at the potions master with unhidden fury, as yet another trivial question had been answered by Malfoy. Hermione had already answered several difficult questions in class that day, and had only earned a deduction of points for bursting answers out in class – whereas Draco Malfoy was suddenly the world's most genius student because he was able to tell Snape why it was unwise to touch a poison with your bare skin. Deciding that enough was enough, Harry raised his hand, looking pointedly at the professor with open aggression.

"Have you misunderstood Malfoy's explanation, Potter?" Snape asked sarcastically in his signature pratty drawl.

"No, sir. I am capable of understanding the phrase 'you shouldn't touch poison because you could get poisoned'... I was actually misunderstanding something else."

"Well, _do_ enlighten us." Snape suggested, raising an eyebrow in mild interest.

"I was wondering, Professor, why it is that Malfoy alone has earned Slytherin over a hundred points in the last hour, and Hermione hasn't gotten my house even one."

"Are you suggesting that I'm being unfairly biased, Potter? Or is it just that without Voldemort you're rendered unable to perform some heroic act at the end of the year to earn last minute points?"

Harry's face flushed with angered embarrassment. He was furious and disturbed by the mere thought that he'd find any con whatsoever in the blessing that the dark wizard was finally out of everyones life. So, in order to pin some of that embarrassment back on Snape, Harry made a rather bold statement.

"I was under the impression, _Severus_, that I was earning several house points during my extra credit projects with you. So, I assume Gryffindor will be taking house cup this year either way."

Snape visibly paled, and had to withhold a ferocious snarl, although he knew that somewhere beyond his instinctual malcontent, he was actually amused and impressed that Harry would say such a thing in front of the whole class. The mere fact that the child had called him Severus, something that tended only to leave his lips in moments of climax, had already alerted Snape that Harry was about to say something in relation to their out-of-classroom relationship, but he truly would never have expected the boy to go that far. Still, he was not one to be beaten at his own game – and arguments were definitely his second-best area of expertise.

"Don't be silly, Potter. If I rewarded house points to everyone who did extra credit work as mediocre as yours, then the entire point system would be so over-abused it'd become worthless." He replied, with a smirk, noting Harry's horrified expression.

The chosen one leapt from his seat and stormed out of the classroom. His stride was harsh and angry, and he knew that no one who he passed would dare to speak to him. Snape was… ugh. Harry didn't even know a word foul enough to capture how he felt about his teacher at that moment. This had to end soon. He simply couldn't take it. Of all the things Harry had been through, one thing he could say was that he was himself through all of it. Living a double life was starting to get under his skin. Although… it wasn't really a double life. That would have been a bit of an exaggeration. It was more that he had a humongous secret that he couldn't tell anyone. Still, it was freaking annoying.

To think that Snape had suggested Harry was _mediocre_ in bed. Ha! That was absolute nonsense. Harry knew he was a good fuck. He turned Snape on to no end, and if need be, he'd drag a memory out of his brain and drop it into the pensieve just to make someone believe it. He grinned, reassuring himself of Snape's attraction to him. He'd had Snape by the balls before they even slept together. He'd known this since Fred and George Weasley had proposed a certain prank to him right before the beginning of his sixth year…

"_C'mon, Harry. We all know the greasy__git deserves a good prank!"_

_"Poor man's got his own wand shoved so far up his arse he's forgotten how to laugh."_

_"It'd be a service to him, really. Don't you think?"_

_"After all, it's not as if you like him anyway, right?"_

_The twins wore matching grins as their words rebounded back and forth at each other with lightning speed, confusing Harry so much that he couldn't even tell which speaker was Fred and which was George. He knew he shouldn't listen to them, after all, pranking Snape would probably be very difficult. BUT- the last question had disturbed him. "_It's not as if you like him anyway, right?_" there was something about that phrase that had caught Harry off guard, and he didn't like it. It seemed to suggest that he_ did_like Snape, and he found himself agreeing to prank the elder man, simply so that he could prove to himself that he still didn't._

_So, they had come up with the plan… well, Fred and George had come up with the plan and Harry had watched them do it. Apparently they were going to brew some sort of potion that would give Snape an aching erection no matter how much he blew his load, until he bedded one of his superiors. Fred explained that this would mean Snape would have to have sex with either Voldemort or Dumbledore, and in all honesty the mental image was so disgusting that Harry had no trouble deciding that Snape would thoroughly suffer – although George claimed that he thought the broody bastard would probably enjoy a shag from the dark lord._

_The potion was difficult to make, but even after they'd made it and sent Harry back to school, the boy found that the hard part was getting Snape to_drink_the damned thing. Finally, one day Harry simply knocked on the man's office door after class._

_When Snape allotted him entry, Harry was shocked to find that the elder man had rid himself of his outer robes and was wearing naught but a simple muggle outfit. Black T-shirt. Black Jeans. Black trainers. How… boring. Yet, it didn't look entirely bad on him._

_"Where're your robes?"_

_"Is that what you've come for, Potter?" Snape hissed, clearly having been preoccupied with something else._

_"Er, no, professor. I was actually wondering if you'd like to try some tea?"_

_Snape raised an excruciatingly incredulous eyebrow, and held out his hand as Harry passed him a thermos. Clearly this was something more than tea. Why the hell else would Harry have randomly appeared with the soul purpose of having him drink it?_

_"Are you trying to poison me, Potter?"_

_"No, sir! Of course not!" Harry insisted, although the light blush now gracing his features clearly told a different story._

_"Then why are you blushing now that I've asked?"_

_Harry panicked for a moment, but thought of an acceptable retort. Though it was somewhat embarrassing, it was also somewhat true. "The last time I poisoned you was completely accidental, but if you recall, you ended up kissing me afterwards... It's sort of... Embarrassing to think about."_

_Snape decided this was a plausible cause and uncapped the thermos. However, much to Harry's horror, he smelled it. One whiff of the scent, and Snape began glaring daggers at his student._

_"Lavender and nutmeg? This is some sort of potion to cause sexual arousal. Why?"_

_Harry blanked. He had no idea what to say after being so easily caught. Snape firmly handed him the thermos, and continued to speak- since clearly Harry was going to say nothing. "So, who exactly would this have had me pining for? You?"_

_"No! Not me!"_

_"Then who?"_

_"Err... you-know-who..." _

_"No, I don't." _

_"No, that _ is _who." _

_"What?" _

_"Voldemort!"_

_"What about him?... Oh." _

_"Or Dumbledore!" _

_Snape glared. "A superior, then?"_

_Harry nodded, and looked pointedly downwards, taking avid interest in his feet. He decided the best thing to do in this situation was to make Snape feel as awkward as he did, and that was VERY awkward. He could feel the heated flesh of his cheeks, as he blushed madly. When he lifted his head to speak, his eyes connected with Snape's for a moment, and his breath hitched as he stared intently at the man, wondering what he was seeing that made him want to never look away from those eyes again. Before Harry could find the words he'd been looking for, Snape's face moved closer and their lips brushed together gently. _

_"Professor... why?" Harry asked, looking pleadingly upwards at the man and hoping to get a real answer. _

_Snape merely gazed down at Harry. Why, indeed? Perhaps it was the blush on the young Gryffindor's cheeks, or the tempting fullness of his lips. Perhaps it was that guilty submissive gleam in his eye that made him just beg to be taken advantage of. Whatever it was about Harry - and Snape had _ finally _accepted him as just Harry - the potions master was addicted._

_"You're such a fool, Potter." _

_Harry frowned. He'd wanted Snape to kiss him again, and instead he was probably about to get a lecture about how he was so much like his father. But then Snape _ did _kiss him again, and all the problems in the world drifted away. Without meaning to, Harry whimpered into the kiss, gripping the thermos tightly else he feared he'd cling on to Snape and make a fool of himself. The elder man noticed the movement, and took the thermos from him again, staring at it with mild amusement. _

_"As if you'd need something like this to arouse me..." Snape muttered, almost to himself, placing the potion on his desk for later examination. And then their lips connected again, and Harry knew he must have been falling, spinning, and flying all at once as the man's tongue prodded boldly into his mouth, familiarizing itself with the moist new territory. _

_Since he'd clearly heard Snape's near silent mumbling about arousal, Harry decided to see if it was true or not. As their tongues battled it out, Harry slid his hand low on the elder's body, and ghosted over the man's pelvic area, coming to contact with a hardening bulge for mere moments before he suddenly found himself several feet away from Snape. _

_"What's wrong?" The student asked, innocently. To this, Snape merely glared, and looked definitively towards the door. _

_"Okay, I'll leave... if you admit that I'm sexy." Harry joked playfully. _

_He knew as soon as the wand was pointed at him that he'd somehow end up blasted into the hallway, but he didn't defend himself. Instead, he began to laugh uncontrollably as he recalled the hysteria of the situation. He had the hots for Severus Snape. What the hell was he getting himself into? _

__ As Harry smirked down the hallway, smugly recalling his first feel of Snape's package, he barely noticed a low-flying owl swoop down near him. In fact, he remained completely unaware of the thing until it landed directly on his left shoulder and pecked at his ear. Merlin, he was becoming awfully oblivious after defeating Voldemort. He had to be more attentive than that, the dark arts still existed, dammit! Harry wordlessly thanked the owl by stroking it's feathers softly, then took the bit of parchment that was hanging from it's beak lazily.

It read:

_Nice work making an idiot of yourself in class. I'd expect no less from you. I am regrettably unable to assign you any "extra credit projects" tonight. Please do not seek me out in my personal chambers. -Severus_

__ Harry glared down at the parchment, but said nothing. It wasn't as if he had a right to demand sexual attention. Snape was there to teach him at potions, nothing more. Still, it stung a little to get such a boring and unexplained dismissal from the elder man. This was, of course, because everyone hates rejection. Not because Harry was in love with Snape. He was _not_ in love with Snape - simply because he'd never be stupid enough to fall in love with Snape. So... he mustn't have been. There was no WAY they were in love... right?

**A/N: How you like this latest installment? It's a wee bit longer than the first I think. Don't worry, we won't focus on flashbacks to how their relationship started for TOO much longer, unless you're enjoying them a lot! Let me know with a review, please! **

**Love you for reading,**

**-Beloved**


	3. A Prince of Pulchritude

**A/N: Sorry I'm updating this so much more than everything else lately, but I'm sort of on a snarry binge at the moment…**

**Enjoy! **

"Stop looking at it, mate. Whatever you're watching for, s'not worth it. You've been staring at the damn thing for an hour. Give up." Ron yawned out, stretching his arms above his head for a moment before lazily collapsing in his four poster.

"Just a minute longer, Ron. I can do this by wand-light if the candle's bothering you." Harry muttered, barely paying any attention to his best friend as he continued to glare restlessly at the Marauder's Map.

"I don't mind the light so much, as it's just weird having you here, I guess. I'm used to sleeping early on Fridays."

At that, Harry smirked privately to himself. After his relationship with Severus had become more… physical… the potions master had assigned him to weekly "detentions" every Friday night for the rest of his time at Hogwarts. He usually didn't get back to the dormitories until the early hours of the morning, so it made sense that Ron wasn't accustomed to him being there. Still, that was just the issue. Why _was _Harry here, and not with Snape?

He'd been expecting that Snape had something to _do _tonight, and that was the reason for his abrupt cancelling. However – no matter how long Harry stared at the map, it showed the same thing: Severus Snape in his office. Then, Severus Snape in his private chambers. He was doing absolutely _nothing _with his night! He wasn't even pacing! He was just… there.

'_Reading, no doubt.' _Harry thought to himself as he scowled at the name. He'd missed out on an opportunity for a good fuck so that he could just sit in his room and _read_? Harry released a frustrated sigh, earning an annoyed look from a very pestered Ronald Weasley who had apparently _just _been nearing sleep when the sound disturbed him.

"Er… sorry, Ron." Harry apologized, rising to his feet and stepping angrily into his slippers; fully ready to go have a word with Snape. He tiptoed carefully out of the boys dormitory, and then allowed himself to gain some speed as he stormed out of the common room.

Holding the map out in front of him to confirm that Snape was still motionless in his chambers, Harry snuck down to the dungeons, past the entrance to the Slytherin commons, and farther past the potions room and Snape's office. He stopped at the very last door, and opened it boldly without knocking.

Snape looked lazily up from his bed and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the teen. "Really, Potter. I am starting to think that you don't even _poses _the ability to enter a room with any type of etiquette."

True to Harry's prediction, Snape was lying atop his bed, one hand on his wand – clearly having heard someone storming through the dungeons – and another hand on an embarrassingly worn copy of a book titled _'Mistaken for a Muggle: The Secrets of the Squib We Know As William Shakespeare' _This caught Harry's attention for a moment, and he paused in his rage to consider the actual possibility that the man who wrote _A Midsummer Night's Dream _was, in fact, a squib.

He was, however, pulled from his theatrical thoughts by the clearly irritated clearing of Snape's throat. Oh, right… Harry remembered to be angry as he glared up at his professor.

"You couldn't see me tonight because you think Shakespeare's a squib?" he half asked, half accused icily.

Snape furrowed his brow in confusion for a moment, before looking down at the book he'd been staring at without really reading. He frowned at the text, wondering what fool had placed such an absurd work of literature on his bookshelf in the first place, but he did not voice this to Harry. The boy thought he'd actually been reading, and Snape was going to allow him to continue thinking that – or else he'd have to be honest with himself about what he was _actually _doing. And it would be a cold day in hell before Severus Snape admitted that he'd been gazing blankly at meaningless words and thinking about Harry Potter.

"What I have been doing with my night is irrelevant to you in every way, mister Potter."

Harry fumed. "This is supposed to be _our _night together! I don't put up with you during the day all week just to be rewarded with a cold empty bed on Friday nights."

Snape almost wanted to smile at that. The implication was clear: Harry had missed him. However, he was sure the teen wouldn't openly come out about that, so he decided to spare him the humility of stating how obvious he was being. "I apologize if my absence from your evening has caused you distress. I was simply not in the mood to see you again today after your little performance in class this afternoon."

Harry was taken aback. It was odd. They almost never discussed their classroom relationship when they were together alone in Snape's bedroom. It was somehow a taboo for them to speak of it. They said much to many cruel things to each other during most days, so it would seriously ruin the mood if they brought those memories with them to bed.

In fact, Harry could only think of _one _time that Snape had _ever _spoken of potions class inside of this room – and that wasn't while Snape was even teaching it. Though, that night had been memorable for many other reasons. It had been their first _real _night together as lovers. No, they hadn't gone all the way that night, but it was the first time Harry was ever brought to orgasm by someone other than himself, so it was almost equally memorable…

**-Flashback- **

_Harry sat cross-legged at the foot of Snape's bed, waiting for the man to get out of his meeting with Dumbledore. Since the day Harry had tried to prank his professor, they had shared a great many private moments. All they did was kiss, or sit and gaze at each other in silence, but they'd both agreed that this wasn't something to be done around the ears of others. So, as of two weeks ago, Snape had told Harry about his idea for the Friday night detentions. _

_This particular Friday night, Harry had let himself into Snape's bedroom to find it empty, with a note on the end table. _

Potter,

If you're reading this then I assume you have, as usual, neglected to knock on my door and entered my private chambers without invitation. I'm currently meeting with the Headmaster about something urgent. Leave if you wish. Stay if you wish. Touch nothing. Keep away from my bed and my bookshelf.

-Professor Snape

_This was of course how Harry found himself sitting atop Snape's bed, deliberately surrounded by Snape's books. Still, as amusing as they were, Harry had no interest in them. He would wish later in life that he'd opened at least _one _of them, and pieced things together earlier, but at that time he had eyes for one book, and one book only: The Half Blood Prince's copy of _Advanced Potion Making.

_Harry caressed the pages tenderly as he turned, examining the Prince's notes on creating Polyjuice potion and wishing that he'd owned this book in his second year. The Prince had figured out how to create in three hours a better tasting version of the potion Hermione had worked at for a month. _

_Harry smiled softly to himself, running his fingers lightly over the messy scrawl of the book's former owner. He was chuckling at a particularly witty margin note when Snape came billowing back into the room, and froze. He glared at Harry, but the boy didn't seem to notice him. He was clearly captivated by whatever he was reading. _

_Snape snatched the book out of Harry's hands and looked at it for only a second before he hissed at the child. "Didn't I tell you not to touch my things?" _

_Harry frowned. "Yes, and I only brought your books onto the bed to make a point. That one's mine, give it back!" he made a grab for the book, and Snape handed it over to him, raising a curious eyebrow. _

"_You seem oddly fond of it, Potter." _

"_Of course I am! It's the only reason I'm passing potions. This things filled to the brim with notes. Every single potion here has been mastered and rewritten. It's really brilliant!" _

_Snape was amused. Harry didn't notice. He continued praising the book. _

"_There's this fellow, The Half Blood Prince, and this was his book. Ron think's it's a bloke, but Hermione reckons it could just as easily have been a woman. Me personally, I don't care who it is, I'd be more than honored to meet them either way." _

_Snape sighed, and began clearing his other books off of his bed. "Did it never occur to you, Potter, that you could simply have asked _me _to help you with your potions?" _

"_You?" Harry asked incredulously. "Impossible. You're much too… I don't know what the word is… It's better I just read the Prince's instructions. He explains things really well." _

_Harry was oblivious to the snort of withheld laughter that almost escaped Snape. _

"_Perhaps, it would be easier for you to comprehend potions if I were to write your instructions down rather than narrating them." Snape murmured more to himself than to Harry, as he finished clearing his bed and laid down on it, relaxed. "I'll keep that in mind for next year."_

_Snape's mutterings were drowned out by another spat of laughter from Harry. "That's funny! Professor, look!" _

_Harry scooted up to Snape and handed him the book, pointing to a place where an entire love potion had been scratched out, and the prince had written in the simple phrase _'Brush your teeth and try asking her out again.' _Harry was giggling like a school girl. Snape rolled his eyes. _

"_You know, if I didn't know better – I'd think you had a crush on this half-blood prince." Snape teased. _

_Harry closed the book and looked up at his Professor, eyes still slightly gleaming. "Honestly, I kind of do." Harry admitted, blushing. "He's really smart, and cool, and witty. What's not to love? I stay up all night sometimes, just reading his comments without paying any attention to the potions…" _

_Snape stared blankly at Harry. "You… have a crush… on the half-blood prince…" _

_The Boy Who Lived gave a shy nod, and then lips were on his, and he was being pushed onto his back on the bed. Harry didn't understand what had suddenly come over his DADA teacher, but he didn't question it. He was too focused on the hot feeling of Snape's mouth against his as their tongues battled mercilessly in a fight for dominance that neither of them ever seemed willing to give up on. _

_It wasn't until Snape pulled off Harry's sweater that the boy truly noticed what they were doing. Snape frowned slightly to himself, as he continued disrobing the young child, then looked at Harry's clothes. They were now strewn lazily across the floor, and Snape looked back at the now naked teen, eyes hungrily taking in every exposed inch of skin. _

"_You're the first Gryffindor I've ever seen naked." He commented stupidly, not knowing why that was what he chose to say. Harry ignored it, and sat up, connecting their lips once more, and not so subtly grabbing Snape's hand and placing it on his cock. _

"_Please?" Harry asked, and Snape wordlessly agreed, wrapping his fist around the swollen appendage and stroking it as they kissed. Harry hissed in pleasure, and threw his head back, allowing the potions master to attack his neck, leaving it with several small and barely noticeable pink bruises. _

_The boy bucked desperately into his teacher's hand, and bit down on Snape's shoulder, pulling the elder closer as he got closer and closer to his end. He felt a tightening in his stomach and a pooling of delicious heat in his balls, and he gasped. _

"_Severus…" He moaned out throatily, and with a shudder it was over as fast as it had begun, and Harry laid, spent, against the pillows. _

_Snape smiled softly, not wanting to admit how glad he was to have serviced the teen, and still slightly baffled that Harry had a crush on him – whether he knew it was him or not._

_Harry had, by this point, known that it was unwise to reach out for Snape's more personal areas, so that night the professor went unpleased, but that was fine with both of them. They had many nights to come… _

**-End Flashback- **

Harry frowned. "Why did you let me gush to you about your potions book last year?" He asked, suddenly changing the subject as he recalled his first sexual experience with the teacher.

Snape shrugged. _Because it was nice to hear… Because you'd never speak so greatly of me to my face if you knew… Because I love the sound of your voice when you're excited like that… Because it was cute… Because I could pretend for a moment that you really feel that way about ME… Because I wouldn't dare wake you from such a sweet dream… _several reasons appeared in the man's mind, but he spoke none of them, instead choosing to continue in his brooding, and ignore Harry's presence.

With an annoyed sigh, the boy turned to leave. "Fine. I guess you really _didn't _want to see me… I'll go then."

"Potter…" Harry turned, and Snape realised too late that he didn't really want to say what he was about to say. Oh well, he'd already started. "You may… you may sleep here, tonight. Beside me. If that's what you desire."

Harry rolled that over in his mind for a moment. He hated Snape. Shape hated him. His heart had fluttered anxiously at the mere thought of sleeping next to the man. Snape had _offered._ Yep, they were both insane.

Deciding that he could commit them to an Asylum in the morning, Harry nodded and silently kicked off his slippers, and scooted into the bed beside his teacher. He slept that night with one hand on his wand under his pillow – still forever paranoid after defeating Voldemort – and one hand resting lazily against Snape's stomach. He could feel that one of Snape's hands was atop his, and it was nice… touching like that. He slept very well.

Besides, it wasn't like they were really _cuddling_ or anything. They just happened to be two people, with no emotional tie, who hadn't just had sex, or even kissed, but decided to sleep together, and touch a little as they did so… Fuck. Harry didn't even believe himself anymore.

He was totally in love with Snape.

**A/N: Yay! Harry's being honest about his emotions! You guys said you liked the flashbacks, so I gave you another! (yippee?) **

**Please review! I hate that this fic doesn't get reviewed much, cus I SO love working on it :D **

**Still, I thank you for reading! You have my love, just for that! **

**-Beloved**


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